


Mandatory Tattoo Parlor AU

by Cycian



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cause we are all thirsting for the ladies, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 06:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17997086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cycian/pseuds/Cycian
Summary: You are thrown into a rather peculiar work environment: tattoing myths and legends, and getting to hang out with the world's finest.





	Mandatory Tattoo Parlor AU

It was your first day in the Cerance tattoo parlor. You were beyond excited, for it was a renowned establishment, and you looked forward to meeting your new colleagues.   
One of your colleagues, named Louis, whom was 75% steel and only 35% human, given all the piercings and augmentations he had, was waiting by the front door to give you a tour.

The Cerance building had three floors and an attic, it was an imposing sight. The dark marble contrasted with the flashing white of the intricate mouldings. Two columns, black with matching white and gold mouldings. The kitsch architecture seemed to flaunt the parlour’s wealth and status as one of the best in the world.

“I know, makes me wanna puke too.” Said Louis, despite his three-piece suit, and neatly trimmed beard, a certain aura of nonchalance followed him. 

The first floor was reserved for ‘nobodies’, random people who saved for months on end to afford a tattoo at the infamous Cerance parlour. Celebrities, influencers and anyone who was someone, winded up on the second floor. It was lavishly furnished, just like the rest of the building, but there was an actual bar, and waiters almost running from room to room. A French door led to a balcony, where clients and guests smoked while appreciating the inner courtyard’s garden. 

You asked Louis about the third floor, as your colleague showed you the basement. He turned around. 

“We aren’t allowed to ask. Only few of the artists have access to it, it’s under heavy guard. There are separate stairs to get to the third floor…And rumour has it, the clients get to it by using a secret elevator.” He whispered, his eyes darting to the sides.   
“Woah, that is not suspicious at all.” You grinned. He seemed shocked by your attitude, and resumed his tour with the equipment stored in the basement.   
Once your little tour was over, Louis sent you to the second floor, to get to your boss, a man going by the name of Trelawny. You tried asking some of the waitpersons, but they were too busy, flashing apologetic smiles as they dashed past. 

Stumbling to the bar, you barely had the time to catch your breath, after dodging with the servers, as a hand gripped your shoulder.  
“You must be the new recruit!” You spun around to meet a middle-aged woman, with a tight ponytail and an even tighter blouse. 

“I am. I’m Y/N, a pleasure to make you-” You didn’t even have time to finish your sentence, the hand you had extended for a formal handshake had been used to propel you into a closet you had not even noticed, hidden behind a lush plant. 

“We don’t have time for pleasantries dear, there’s a uniform for you on the bench, get dressed quickly!” She slammed the door before you had time to tell her that you were a tattoo artist, not a waiter. 

You decided not to act out on your first day, instead getting dressed as fast as you could, tripping in the dark, failing to find the switch. 

Rushing out of the closet, a barman slid a tray in your hands, barking out several rooms in your ear, as it was hard to hear amidst the chatter and the obnoxious piano playing in the background. 

You spent about two hours playing the waitress, your lungs begged for mercy. You put your tray on the bar, waiting for your next order.   
You turned around, already ready to run at full speed to your client, before colliding with someone. The drinks spilled on your uniform, and you knocked your head on the way down. 

“Shit,” You hissed, opening your eyes to see an extended hand. “I’m so sorry Miss, I should have been more careful, it’s my first day and…” The hand pulled you up, and you fussed over the client’s ruined shirt, dabbing furiously at the mix of drinks making the white shirt quite transparent, enough for you to see a blue light on the customer’s chest.  
For the first time since your misadventure, you looked up to see the world famous adventurer, Lena Oxton herself.   
“Motherfucker.” You let out, eyes wide as saucer, without realising it.   
This caused the Brit to erupt into a contagious fit of laughter. 

You clasped your hand over your mouth, terribly embarrassed.   
“I’m-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that, my nerves got the best of me, and also so sorry for running into you with my tray, and ruining your shirt, I’ll pay you back, I am so sorry Miss Oxton, forgive me for my mistake-” Lena Oxton interrupted your rambling with a wave of her hand, as the last of her laughter subsided.   
“It’s all right luv, we all make mistakes! Plus, that was funny! I’ve never been greeted with ‘motherfucker’ before, so that’s refreshing.” She giggled, helping you pick up your tray and what was left of the drinks you were supposed to deliver. 

You heard a loud gasp behind you, to find the woman who pushed you into the closet.   
“What have you done? Miss Oxton, I apologise for the stupidity of this klutz!” She grabbed you by your ear, pinching forcefully.   
“It’s quite alright Madame Isabelle, she made me laugh!” She smiled brightly, shooing away the waiters attempting to dry her shirt.   
“You are getting to Mister Trelawny’s office right now, young lady!” Spat Madame Isabelle, dragging you by the lobe of your ear through a labyrinth of corridor. As you left the common room, Lena Oxton offered a sympathetic shrug. 

You arrived in the lavishly decorated office, soaked to the bone, with your ear on fire, and feeling absolutely mortified.   
Madame Isabelle came in first, telling you to wait for a few minutes. You tried to make yourself look decent, but to no avail.   
You heard her yelling through the massive oak door, and felt her stomping against the wooden floor. 

The door swung open, revealing an incredibly tall man, with a fabulous moustache and a ridiculously large top hat.   
“Ah! There she is!” Grinned the man, “I’ve been looking for you all over, Miss Y/N!” He grabbed your hand, placing a smooth kiss over it.  
“Please do forgive Madame Isabelle for her temper, she lives off rage and bitterness.” Trelawny cast a wink your way, as Isabelle shrieked with outrage.   
“Mister Trelawny!”   
“Yes, that is my name, dearest Madame. You are dismissed, and please, double check that the waiters you mistreat are not renowned tattoo artists.” Grinned Trelawny, his eyes twinkling with mischief.   
Madame Isabelle scoffed at the cold dismissal, before stomping away.   
“My dear, I truly apologise for what our dear Madame has put you through,” He extended his arm, which you took gladly, as he led you into his office. “I hope that you are still willing to join us, despite this…incident.”   
You sat down on a comfortable armchair, in front of a fire, as your boss poured you some cognac.   
“I am also at fault, I should have been more cautious, but I accept your apology. I simply hope that Miss Oxton has a spare shirt around.”   
Trelawny laughed at that, before sitting down next to you.  
“Miss Oxton practically lives her, I gather she has her own quarters.” He took a sip of his own glass, barely grimacing at the sour taste.   
“I didn’t know this parlour doubled as a hotel.” You looked at him questioningly.  
“Y/N, the Cerance is more than meets the eye.” He winked, as the twirled the tip of his moustache, apparently deep in thought. “Your former employer mentioned your discretion, I trust you will do very well on the third floor.”   
That earned a gasp from you.  
“I heard it was rather hard to get in, why me?” You asked.  
“You’ve proven yourself to be quite versatile, which will be a key quality on the third floor. As well as your discretion, since you will be working with rather…peculiar customers.” He chuckled, he was about to say something before the door to his office flew open, revealing a rather dishevelled Brit.   
“Josiah! Don’t fire her, she meant no harm at all!” Huffed and puffed Lena, resting her hands on her knees.  
This caused Trelawny to erupt into a belly-deep round of laughter. The puzzled adventurer looked at you, confused.  
“He is not going to fire me, I think…” You tried to explain, still struggling to process the situation yourself.   
“Since you’re here, darling Lena, would you mind showing our dearest Y/N to the third floor?”  
Oxton nodded eagerly, smiling from ear to ear.   
“You’re coming to the Third? Oh man, now, that’s great news! We’re gonna have tons of fun!” She didn’t waste any time, grabbing you by your arm and all but dragging you through a complex labyrinth of corridors and doors, until you reached a seemingly forgotten broom closet.   
“Uhh…” You were about to ask Miss Oxton if she was lost, as she pulled on a shelf. A ding sound echoed in the room, as the wall cut in half, revealing an elevator.  
“Is all this secrecy necessary?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Quite.” She winked, before blinking in the elevator, just as the doors opened. You rushed after her, resisting the urge to gawk at her powers.   
Lena whistled, pointedly avoiding making any small talk. Just as the doors started to open, she patted your shoulder.   
“Listen, everything you see in here, stays in here. Josiah trusts you, and so do I, I think you’re an honest lass, but you can’t be too careful.” She sounded quite serious, which seemed to be rather rare.  
You nodded. “I’ve had to work with rather strange clients before, I don’t suppose this will be any more diffi-” And as you walked out of the elevator, you found yourself face to face with Mei-Ling Zhou.   
“Oh, hi!” She smiled and waved excitedly, “You must be the new girl everyone keeps talking about, I’m Mei!”   
“I, hum, I’m Y/N, a pleasure, Miss Zhou.” You had read her journal, it was an honour to meet her in the flesh.   
“No need to be so formal, Y/N! Mei’s just fine!” She giggled, before stepping aside, revealing a door leading into a titanic lounge, where several celebrities and infamous spies, snipers and outlaws seemed to be lazing about.   
You didn’t even realise your mouth was wide open until Lena gently pushed it close.   
“Told you!” She blinked past you and onto the bar’s counter.   
“Hey everyone! This is Y/N, and she’ll be taking care of us from now on! Be nice, and remember, Hana, no biting!” All the attention was now focused on you, as various members greeted you.   
You felt cold sweat running down your spine, as you gathered yourself and offered a wave and a smile.   
This was going to be a long, long day.   
Just as Lena dropped down from the countertop, a white-haired woman with blood-red eyes stood in front of you, hand extended.   
“Ashe.” She stated.  
“Y/N.” You shook her hand firmly, causing her to smirk approvingly at your grip.   
“I want a tattoo. On my back.”   
“Alright, but I have no idea where the tattoo rooms are on this floor.”   
She shook her head.  
“We get tattooed where we want to, but we have a room for the squishies.” She pointed over her shoulder to the world-renowned gamer, Hana Song, who, without looking up from her handheld gaming device, gave Ashe the bird.  
“Isn’t it dangerous?” You asked, cocking your head to the side, where a small mountain of energy drinks stood menacingly on the coffee table in front of the Korean gamer.   
This caused a round of laughter to erupt around the room.   
A giant of a woman, with bright pink hair, which you knew to be the infamous Aleksandra Zaryanova, slapped your shoulder, sending you tumbling onto the sofa where the gamer was lounging.   
You landed on something that was too rough to be a simple couch. You opened your eyes to see a woman materialising out of thin air, just under you.  
“Well, you have a strange way of introducing yourself, Y/N.” Grinned the not-a-couch lady.  
“What the ever-loving fuck?” You muttered.   
She cackled, saying something along the lines of ‘I like this one’ in Spanish, before disappearing, leaving you to crash onto the couch again.  
“What the hell was that?” You asked, your eyebrows raised so high they met your hairline.  
“Oh, that’s just Sombra.” Came a voice, with a noticeable French accent, from behind the bar. A tall figure with long, silky black hair so dark it seemed blue, and a skin to match, was pouring wine into fancy-looking glasses.   
“Sombra, as in the group of hackers? She’s a member?” You were completely bewildered, what was going on here?!   
“Oh, no, she is the group of hackers. To put it simply.” Answered the mountain of a woman that was Zarya.  
You were completely baffled at their lack of secrecy. Someone tapped on your shoulder. The Frenchwoman was handing you a glass of wine.  
“I don’t drink when I work.” You stated.  
“In this place, agents of Overwatch, Talon, Vishkar and many more meet. Believe me, you will need a drink.”   
“Thanks, I guess…” You took a sip of the wine, as the white-haired woman was staring you down intensely.  
“Let’s get to work, Y/N.”   
You finally made it back to your apartment, a bottle of whiskey tucked under your arm.   
Closing the door, you sighed heavily.   
“My life is so fucking weird.” You stated, sinking to your knees against the door.   
“Oh man, shit hasn’t even started.” A familiar voice came from your left, revealing the woman you now knew to be Sombra, crouching next to you.   
You jumped to your feet, holding your hand against your thundering heart.   
“What are you doing here?”   
“Well, you see, our work is very important, but we need a place to unwind. As always, I am obliged to give you the mandatory ‘spill the beans and we’ll spill your brains’ talk.” She came closer to you, a feline-like approach, which made you feel like a prey.   
“So, you keep your pretty mouth shut, and you’ll get a big, fat payroll each month. Not that your apartment’s bad… It’s certainly… something.” She gestured to the crumbling walls. “And also, you’ll get to restock your fridge.”   
So, she helped herself to your food. What a dear.   
“I just moved in, and it was rather tough to find a decent flat in the borough.” You tried to justify yourself, in vain, as Sombra tutted, while waving her finger.   
“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, Y/N. Keep quiet, and keep working, and everything will be fine.”  
“How will I know you guys won’t come after me after my contract is through?” You asked, as Sombra made a beeline for your kitchen, downing the rest of your apple juice. You dared not utter a word, despite the fact that it was the last semi-edible thing you possessed.   
“Sometimes,” She rested against the windowsill, the open window making her hair fly, highlighting her gorgeous features and feline grin. “You gotta take a leap of faith.”   
She let herself fall from the window. You gasped, your bottle of whiskey shattering against the ground, as you ran to the window, only for you to catch a glimpse of bright purple particles in the air.   
“What a drama queen.” You sighed, massaging your temples. You cleaned up the remains of the shattered glass, before gazing into your fridge, hoping to find a yoghurt to sate your growing hunger, only to see that it had been completely restocked with fresh vegetables, meat, white wine…  
Maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all .


End file.
